The Path Lined Red
by littlemaiko
Summary: Klaus' first impression of Kohaku McDohl. Completed.


Disclaimer: Suikoden 2 and all its elements are properties of Konami. Fanfiction belongs to littlemaiko. Stealing is prohibited.  
  
Description: One-scene short story on Klaus' meeting with Young McDohl (named Kohaku in this piece). First impressions are always important, no?  
  
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The Path Lined Red  
by littlemaiko   
  
  
  
  
  
The path I tread  
smears with crimson footprints  
Your face I touch  
stains with specks of scarlet   
  
  
  
  
  
When I first saw him, I almost shielded my eyes from the invisible glow of red that surrounded him. No, I felt certain that I had seen the shadow of blood-hue framing his young body like a divine halo. Yet, after the initial awe, the impression of thick metallic aroma faded and was replaced by a sense of let-down.   
  
The great hero whom I had anticipated meeting was merely a boy. His dark head dressed in green bandana only reached as tall as my shoulders, and his gloved hands were too small to be those of an acclaimed fighter. Only those light-amber eyes told of his sorrows, the weight of his timeless life.   
  
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir McDohl."   
  
"The pleasure is mine. Pardon me, may I have your name, please?"   
  
Kohaku gazed up at my face with that expression of complete politeness. He had the manners of a court-raised nobleman. Surely, his father must have taught him how to carry himself like a McDohl. When I told him my name, he bowed and offered me one of his small hands.   
  
"How do you do, Sir Windamier. I have heard of your father's fame from mine. I hope that he is well?"   
  
His mannerism, perfected through somber countenance and weary elegance of his motions, kept me away. He detached himself from the crowd with his pleasant silence; he smiled often with just a curling of his lips, but never did he laugh out aloud. The only time I heard him laugh was when Sir Viktor and others from the old war surrounded him at the bar and teased him into drinking down a jug. Even then, his laugh had been merely a suppressed chuckle.   
  
So I shook his hand, feeling the cool palm beneath the thin fabric of his beige-colored glove. His fingers were strong, toughened by years of handling a weapon. Until I touched him, I hadn't seen him as a warrior. With my hand in his grasp, I felt intimidated.   
  
He might have read my thoughts, for he withdrew from the handshake and excused himself. I watched him go with a mixed feeling. A part of me yearned to play with the shade of death he carried, to flirt with danger and learn more about that sullen youth. Another part screamed out in alarm, instinctively afraid. I listened to both and decided on neither.   
  
"Sir McDohl."   
  
Kohaku looked back at me from the end of the corridor, not yet far enough to make his face indistinguishable. I could still see the golden color of his irises.   
  
"I look forward to accompanying you in battles."   
  
He granted me a feigned smile, curling his pale lips without showing his teeth or mirth. I wasn't disappointed, however. I did not expect anything more from this man in a boy's body.   
  
"As do I. Your abilities as a strategist carries far."   
  
That was his last comment to me before he turned around the end of the corridor and disappeared from my line of vision. I shivered once as the shadow that hung in the air in his presence lifted. Perhaps, I'd made an acquaintance with a monster. A monster to whom I had been drawn, attracted. He had that charisma of a leader; the air he carried smelled of blood and tasted of death, yet no one could have escaped untouched by his sorrowing eyes.   
  
I understood then why he wished to keep everyone at an arm's length or farther. Like mayflies plunging blissfully into their deaths by fire, men also gathered about Kohaku McDohl despite his life-threatening Fate. His lithe body became the lure, his True Rune feeding off of countless preys. Even then... knowing the trap laid upon the path he tread, I wished to follow him. 


End file.
